Welcome Home
by shadowcat012
Summary: A promt from lunarsaturn88's SPN prompt challenge. Sam Winchester x Reader. There were periods you would go months without hearing from him. But when you did, it was like the entire world disappeared and it was just the two of you in existence. Rated M for allusions to and brief mentions of mature content.


(A prompt from lunarsaturn88's SPN Prompt Challenge. A Reader Insert Fic)

Beware of fluff and allusions to sex...

A/N: I created a new tumblr account two years ago dedicated to uploading reader insert fics called justagirlinafandomworld. I've actually had this written since November '17, but only recently posted it. And I thought I would share it here just to show that I am still writing. If you're waiting for an update on my other stories, first: I apologize for the long wait; second: please enjoy this as the small treat it is intended to be. Love you all!

* * *

 **"Welcome Home"**

Sometimes you went weeks without seeing him. Well, let's be honest here, there were periods where you would go months without hearing from him. And some nights it was unbearable to the point a bottle of tequila and trashy television were the only way you could make it through without suffering a complete breakdown.

Your friends didn't completely understand. How could they? If you had told them that he was enlisted in the military and was constantly bounced around the country, they would probably be more sympathetic. He would be tied to the duty of protecting his country and would have no real say on where he could stay. A romantic tragedy, really.

But one of your friends was an army wife and you couldn't find it in yourself to lie to them like that-even though he really was tied to a duty: protecting humanity. So, he remained a guy that would blow into your life for a few days, encapsulate you completely so it was as if you disappeared off the face of the Earth, then drop you back down to reality on your own when he left town again.

"Booty call," One of your friends remarked insensitively after one such weekend. You'd peeled yourself away from the couch to meet up with your friends for a dinner and drinks one night to come clean about your unreturned calls. But, after that comment and the silent agreement around the table, you decided the time of talking with your friends about your relationship was over.

On a Sunday afternoon, after a particularly bad weekend in which there was a marathon of _Buffy the Vampire Slayer_ mixed in with your favorite episodes of _Sex and the City_ (a guilty pleasure), you'd had enough of moping around and decided to clean up your act. Starting with cleaning out your apartment.

Trash bags were filled with empty bottles and beer cans, used Clorox wipes and dirty sponges. Your upstairs neighbors banged down on your ceiling. You cranked your music up louder and sorted through piles of laundry. Your fridge was cleared out as well as your pantry and you cringed when you realized a run to the grocery store was necessary before going in to work the next day.

You were about to make a second trip down to the dumpster when you opened your front door and found it to be blocked.

"Jesus," You nearly jumped out of your skin. You looked up and literally felt your heart skip a beat. "Sam?"

There he stood, all six foot four inches of him, with his fitted blue jeans, plaid shirt, green jacket and shaggy brown hair. And his eyes. Your breath caught as his eyes looked into yours. Sam Winchester. The man who had rescued you from a den of vampires three years ago. The man who had quickly stolen your heart without the promise of giving his in return. You dropped the trash bags at your feet and threw your arms around his torso, your cheek pressing against his chest. His arms wrapped securely around you, squeezing you to him, his cheek resting on top of your head. You felt completely enveloped by him.

"I didn't know you were in town." You spoke against the fabric of his jacket.

"I tried calling ahead, but you didn't answer." The music still blaring from the speakers inside your apartment seemed to answer his unspoken question of why. "Did I catch you at a bad time?"

You pulled away only far enough to look him in the face. You recognized his expression. It was the one he always had when you two reunited. It was the one he always incited in you when he showed up.

Hunger.

Your hand reached behind his neck. That was all the invitation he needed as his lips came crashing down on yours. Blindly you stepped back, leading him into your apartment and letting him close and lock the door.

A half hour later the two of you were laying on your bare mattress (you hadn't pulled the sheets from the dryer yet), your back pressed up into his chest, his arms encircling you and your legs entwined. Neither of you felt the need to cover up in blankets, wrapped in each other's afterglow.

The sun started to set outside your window and you felt your responsibilities begin to nag at you. Funny thing, you realized, he had never shown up on a Sunday before. You hadn't ever kicked him out so you could begin your work week. You hadn't ever kicked him out in general. This was new territory with him.

"How long are you in town for?" You asked quietly. You didn't want to pop this warm bubble just yet.

His lips caressed your neck before lifting to rest behind your ear. "A day or two. We're just passing through."

"You really should have called ahead." You laughed lightly.

"Oh yeah? Is your boyfriend coming over?" You elbowed his ribs in retaliation. His grip around you tightened and you smiled.

"I have no food. There is literally a condiment on the shelf in my fridge. That's it."

You felt him smile against your skin. "I can order delivery."

You turned to him slightly. "Actually, I had something else in mind."

Another half hour later, the both of you were dressed, walking through the produce section at the grocery store. You were busy scrolling through and checking things off your list while Sam stood awkwardly behind the cart, following your lead and avoiding bumping into other shoppers.

When you noticed his discomfort, you paused and raised your eyebrows at him. "First time in a grocery store, Sam?"

His face contorted, as if the question should have offended him. "No, this is just…this feels…"

You waited for him to explain, but as he was floundering, you noticed another couple trying to get by and pulled at the front of the cart to lead Sam to the side of the aisle. As the couple passed, Sam noticed what you did and how simply you did it. You were still waiting for him to finish his thought, but the way he was staring at you suddenly made you feel nervous.

"What?" You asked.

"Nothing, never mind. What's next on the list?"

You loaded up on groceries for the week and decided to treat Sam to a home cooked meal for dinner. It was a relief, honestly. Loading Sam down with grocery bags and only having to carry three up the flight of stairs to your apartment. Leaving him instructions on putting the groceries away, you took a quick shower. You were in the stall less than five minutes before he joined you under the shower spray. The "quick shower" turned into a much longer trip.

When you realized he had brought with him a bag full of dirty clothes, you joked that he was using you for your washer and dryer. He nibbled your neck and tickled your sides until you took the comment back.

When he wasn't doing his laundry, he was keeping you company in the kitchen, distracting as well as helping. You noticed he wasn't mentioning his brother as much as he had in past visits and asked after him.

His mood dampened noticeably. He leaned back against the sink and fidgeted with the beer in his hand. "Dean is…Dean is Dean. Sometimes he's my brother and other times…I don't know. I worry about him."

The timer for the oven went off. Sam chose to change the subject and you didn't bring it up again.

"My friends now think you're a booty call." You mentioned casually as you two ate.

Sam's eyebrows shot up. "If I'm the one blowing into town, aren't _you_ technically the booty call?"

You raised your eyebrows right back at him, challenging. " _Am_ I a booty call?"

Sam chewed, and the silence stretched between you two. Slowly, your eyes began to widen, and your jaw dropped.

"Sam!"

"What?" He had the nerve to start laughing.

"Oh my god, I am, aren't I? I make this beautiful meal for you-oh! I'm your freaking meal ticket!"

He reached for your hand across the table.

"Stop. You know you're not." At your silence, he continued. "You're…like a vacation."

The confusion showed on your face. He quickly back peddled.

"Okay, maybe not a vacation, but…you're the closest I have to normal. I'm not saying you're _boring_ , I'm just saying you're…We went grocery shopping, I did laundry, you cooked dinner, we're sitting at a table having a _meal_. I mean…I don't get a lot of evenings like this. But when I'm with you, every evening is like this. I can take a breath. I can be me, you know?"

Dropping your eyes down to your plate, you were quiet a long moment. "I don't get a lot of evenings like this either, you know."

"No?" You looked back up at him and shook your head. "There really is no boyfriend waiting in the wind then?"

You rolled your eyes. "The only boyfriend in the wind is you."

He chuckled disbelievingly. "I'm your boyfriend now?"

Without a word, you stood from your chair and walked to the key hook by your front door. You removed the extra key to your apartment from your key ring and tossed it to Sam who caught it with one hand.

"Welcome home, boyfriend." You spoke with a confidence you didn't feel. In truth, you were terrified. Terrified he was going to laugh in your face and reject both the relationship and your key. Terrified he was going to reject you.

But everything he had said, was everything you had felt since you found him standing on your doorstep. Everything you had been feeling since first meeting him (you know, after the whole saving your life part of the relationship).

His hand closed around the key and without a response, he stood from his chair and moved to stand before you. His hand cupped your cheek. You turned into the touch, bracing yourself for the unknown. He leaned in so that his mouth was a breath away from yours. "It's good to be home."

His mouth covered yours. Your fingers entangled in his hair as you pulled him close. You would head to work in the morning and he would disappear to save lives. But tonight, you belonged to each other. And no one could take that away.


End file.
